


Anywhere but Here

by Raine_Wynd



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim decides to come along on Blair's impulse trip, he surprises Blair with something completely unexpected. Slash, Jim/Blair. Written for The Many Adventures of Jim and Blair 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere but Here

**Author's Note:**

> Written mostly in one sitting, in about eleven hours. Thanks to Kelly for the beta.

The late September sun heralded unseasonably warm weather. Staring out the windows of his apartment, Blair felt suddenly trapped, as if the walls had gotten too close. Maybe they had. It had been a rough year. After some consideration, Blair had rejected the offer to become a detective. He'd spent the rest of spring and summer trying to redeem himself. He'd moved out of the loft and into a tiny studio in a decent neighborhood on the north side of the city. He'd gotten a lawyer who'd helped him obtain a settlement with the university and Sid Graham for unauthorized disclosure; the money was enough that he could live on that for a while. He found a job in a New Age bookstore that belonged to a friend of a friend of a friend; it was enough to keep boredom at bay.

Yet he couldn't shake the loneliness. Jim had been disappointed but not entirely surprised that Blair had ultimately decided not to take the badge. He'd been more upset that Blair had felt the need to move. Yet, beyond his initial grump over the notion, he'd been more than willing to help Blair find a place, help him move, as if he'd finally accepted that Blair was going to go through with it regardless of what he said. Jim had even made a point of making plans with him --- but as usual, Jim's job interfered, and then Blair threw himself into making friends who weren't associated with the PD.

Summer was filled with more rain than was typical in Cascade, and Blair was kept busy by an increase in his hours at the shop. One of his customers asked him out on a date, then three, and suddenly Blair found himself in a polyamorous relationship with more drama than a soap opera. It took him two weeks to extricate himself. It took him a few more days to realize had been weeks since he'd heard from Jim. Messages left at the loft were returned on his voicemail, and Blair was tired of playing phone tag.

Blair missed Jim. More to the point, the mess with the poly relationship had reinforced something Blair hadn't known quite to that degree: he wanted monogamy. He wanted someone who would be there for him, who would be his exclusively, who could be trusted with his heart and his body. More than that, he wanted forever with someone to mean more than a summer. He craved the domesticity of the life he'd shared with Jim – cooking meals together, doing the laundry while Jim cleaned, playing games, being a sounding board for Jim for more than just solving crimes. Hell, both Steven and William had been positively shocked that Blair was no longer the keeper of Jim; William had insisted that he pay for the lawyer because Blair had managed to bridge the gap between him and his son.

_I have to get out of here,_ Blair decided. The Volvo had been stolen the day after Blair had been offered a badge. He'd gotten by without transportation thanks to Cascade's excellent bus system and a membership to CarShare, a car sharing service, while he saved up for his next car. He wasn't due to work for the next two days, and now that he wasn't with Kris and Melissa, he had an entire weekend stretching ahead of him. He'd seen a flyer for CarShare that claimed they had a new convertible in the fleet, and today seemed like a perfect day to try it out. He needed a new adventure, something to take him out of this rut.

Packing a bag, he pulled open the door, intent on heading out when he ran smack into Jim.

"Jim! I was just leaving," Blair said, surprised.

"To see your…friends for the weekend?"

The growled tone made Blair step back, assessing his friend. Jim looked both parts exhausted and determined. He wore a light denim shirt, a faded gray T-shirt and jeans. His clothes seemed to hang a bit on him, as if he'd lost weight.

Abruptly, he realized the last time he'd seen Jim was when Jim had dropped by the bookstore to see if he was free to go to a party at Rafe's house back in July. Kris and Melissa had shown up right as Blair was answering, and they'd pointed out that Blair had committed to going with them to a folk concert the same day. Jim hadn't stayed long after that. With a sudden start, Blair realized that the next three invitation Jim had made since then had been refused because he'd been involved with Kris and Melissa. After the third refusal, Jim had simply stopped calling.

"No," Blair said, answering Jim's question. "I just…needed to get out of here. I was getting tired of being the toy that Kris and Melissa were fighting over and told them to patch up their relationship. They didn't like hearing that. I stopped seeing them a week ago, which means -- " Blair grinned "—suddenly, I have nowhere to be, and this place suddenly feels too small for one person."

Jim seemed to relax slightly. "This from the guy who told me 500 square feet was plenty?" he teased Blair. "You got anywhere to be tomorrow?"

"No, why?"

"Had a destination in mind?"

"No. Anywhere but here. Maybe Vancouver, since it's a long enough drive to make staying over worth it."

"Got your passport?"

Blair eyed him suspiciously, beginning to worry. "You don't need it if you're American going on a day trip to Canada. Jim, are you okay? Do you need my help on a case?"

"Do you have your passport?" Jim insisted.

"Yes, but –"

"Keys?" Jim interrupted.

In reply, Blair dangled them in front of Jim. Jim smiled and took possession of them, unlocking Blair's apartment and unerringly going to the drawer in the kitchen where Blair kept his passport. Fishing the document out of the drawer, Jim checked the expiration date. Satisfied, he slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. Quickly, he exited the apartment, locking it before turning to Blair and guiding him towards the stairs in a way that clearly indicated which way Blair was to go.

Blair decided he was going to go with the flow. Arguing with Jim now only pushed the older man into longer silences. If Jim wanted his passport, even to go to Canada, then Blair wasn't going to argue. Canada was certainly not Cascade…and Vancouver was two and a half hours away. That was certainly long enough of a time to probe into Jim's reasons.

Once outside, Jim led him to an old Volkswagen Cabriolet convertible. He unlocked the trunk so Blair could put his bag there. Another duffel bag sat there, along with a small cooler and a bag Blair recognized from previous trips as the 'emergency supplies in case we're stranded' bag.

As they got into the car with Jim at the wheel, Jim remarked casually, "Dad asked me to drive this, since it's just been sitting in the garage. Figured today was a good day."

"Nice car," Blair remarked as Jim started it up. It purred like the well-maintained machine it was. "It's your dad's car?"

"Sort of," Jim said. "I think he bought it for Sally as a gift, but she wouldn't take it." Jim shrugged. "Sally says he bought it to try to take her mind off the fact I'd been gone for a year by then."

Blair shook his head, whistling softly. "So it's just sat in a garage all this time?"

Jim shrugged again. "Mostly. Dad tried to sell it to me when he found out I didn't have a car after I got back, but he was an asshole about it."

"And now?"

"Dad's thinking about selling it," Jim admitted. "He wanted to give it to you, but I convinced him you probably wouldn't take it."

"Jesus, your family doesn't do anything in half measures, do they?" Blair exclaimed.

A chuckle met his remark. "Well, would you?"

"Not when parking is an additional $250 a month," Blair retorted. "But man, this thing's practically cherry. How many miles does it have?"

"About 26,500," Jim said after a glance at the odometer. "Sally drove it for a while just to keep Dad happy, but that's mostly around town and a few trips down to Tacoma to visit her family."

"Man, that's tempting." Blair thought about it as Jim took the turns to get them to the interstate. "But I know there's a waiting list for parking, and the money I got from the settlement's going towards all my student loans, so I don't have a lot to spare month to month for that sort of thing."

"I thought you got a payout for the Volvo when it was stolen?"

"Didn't I tell you? It paid for a three month bus pass."

Jim groaned. "No, you didn't. You just let me believe you were waiting on the check and it hadn't come yet."

"I could've sworn I told you," Blair argued.

Jim shook his head, his lips compressing into a thin line. "I wish you'd come home," he said. "You wouldn't have to worry about paying for parking."

"I thought you were okay with me being gone," Blair ventured warily. "You're not having problems with your senses, are you?"

Jim shot Blair a disbelieving look, then focused his attention on driving as they exited the on-ramp to the interstate.

"You should've said something sooner," Blair said, annoyed. "I'm your Guide."

"Yeah," came the annoyed reply. "But you're never where I need you to be." As if realizing he'd said too much, Jim took a deep breath and let it out. "Look, I don't want to fight with you in the car. Take this car or not; your choice. I promised Dad I'd offer it to you. You can tell him to go stuff it if that's what you want. Hell, if you don't want to go all the way to Canada, we can just drive till we get tired and stop somewhere."

Jim was rarely this accommodating. Suspicious, Blair asked, "It's not just me being gone, is it?"

Silence met his words, but it was a Jim-trying-to-decide-what-to-say sort of silence, and Blair didn't press, aware that pushing Jim now wouldn't serve him any good. Finally, Jim said, "No, it's not. It's not something I want to discuss while driving, either. We'll talk about it after we get to the hotel in Vancouver. Did you see the Incan exhibit at the history museum?"

Blair bit back a sigh. "No, Kris and Melissa thought it was a barbaric display of dead people, so we didn't go. I tried to tell them it wasn't all about the mummies, but they then decided it was exploitative and demeaning, and when I pointed out it was with the cooperation of the Mexican government, they….never mind what they thought. Jim, if it's so important that you have to go all the way to Canada to talk about it, then why don't we pull over and talk about it now?"

Now Jim smiled. "No." But he reached over and grasped Blair's hand. A surge of electricity shot through Blair at the contact. He gasped, startled to feel an unmistakable sense of Jim on a psychic level, startled to feel as though he'd been missing that level of connection for months now.

Suddenly, a half-remembered fragment of a dream flashed through Blair's head. He'd been in a field, watching the ghost of something vaguely animal-shaped try to go through an electrified fence to get to him, and getting shocked every time. He hadn't understood it, hadn't paid close enough attention to it, and then had gotten distracted by the business of living.

Now he understood the vague animal shape had been Jim's panther. Jim had kept trying to reach out to him all summer, only to get brushed off by timing, circumstance, and by Blair's need to make a clean break where there would be no ties to cast suspicion on Jim's skills as a detective. Blair had forgotten that in bringing Blair back, Jim had forged a spiritual connection between them, one that bound them forever. The more distance between them, the grumpier Jim got, and the more Blair felt compelled to do whatever it took to keep him happy – even go so far as to leave.

Which, Blair reflected as he took a more careful study at his Sentinel, was the worst thing he could do. Jim handled stress by pushing himself harder, working out more, eating less and sleeping less. The dials were harder for Jim to control when he was tired or emotionally strained, and he tended to get even more frustrated at himself as a result.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Blair said quietly. "I thought you could use some privacy. Get people to stop talking about how I must've conned you good."

Jim snorted. "People will always talk," he told Blair. "Hell, you were the one who told me it's a cultural norm to gossip. No one sees you as a fraud, Chief. Not after the stats came out and the commissioner saw how you'd raised the collective success rate for not just the department, but the whole PD. They hired a fancy-ass consultant just to figure out why our case closure rate fell to an all-time four-year-low. He took a week to figure out the PD needs you, and that the PD owes you about sixty thousand in back pay for uncompensated labor in violation of policy."

Blair stared at him. "What?"

"He wasn't exactly shy about voicing his opinion about it all. Of course, he thought that maybe since you were gone, he could convince them he was the right guy to take the job they would create for you. He just happened to choose the wrong person to tell this to. Connor wasted no time in letting everyone know just what kind of sleaze he was…and what kind of guy you are."

"Oh, man. This is too much."

Jim chuckled. "You have an appointment Monday to see the commissioner. I'm supposed to bring you there first thing. Hope the bookstore doesn't need you."

"They're not open on Mondays," Blair murmured. "But wait – what about the fact I turned down the offer of a badge because of what I said at the press conference?"

"I don't know how that's going to get handled," Jim said honestly. "I only know they have a plan, just like they did when the badge was offered to you. Probably something simpler now that you've settled with the university and with Sid."

"I don't know about this," Blair said hesitantly. "If I have to testify…"

"Why don't you wait until Monday to hear what the commissioner has to say before you worry it to death, Chief?" Jim suggested. "I thought I'd tell you so you wouldn't be surprised when I drag you off to his office on Monday."

"What time do I have to be there?"

"8 AM."

"Oh, geez, you know I hate morning meetings," Blair griped. "No one's really awake enough to be coherent and no one wants to be there."

"I'll buy the coffee," Jim said dryly.

"You'd better," Blair joked. "Does this mean I have to dress up, too? I think my one good interview suit's still in your closet."

"Along with your winter clothes," Jim acknowledged. "Did you notice you didn't have forced heat in your apartment, just that one radiator?"

Blair blinked. "I don't? I could've sworn I saw…oh, shit, that was an electric baseboard heater I saw. Damn it, Jim, you couldn't have mentioned this sooner?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait this long."

"What?" Jim's quicksilver moods were really starting to annoy the hell out of Blair. "You know how to reach me."

"You've had your phone turned off all week," Jim pointed out. "I've had twenty cases to close since April, and –"

"Twenty?" Blair repeated, shocked. "Jim, you don't normally have a case load that big."

Jim grimaced. "I used to, back before I met you."

"There's no way you can carry that kind of load and not explode," Blair fretted. "Or slip up on something or let something slide because you don't have the time--"

"I closed the last one yesterday," Jim interrupted.

"And of those, how many did you solve?" Blair pressed.

"Twelve," Jim admitted quietly.

Twelve out of twenty was not Jim's best solve rate, though not his worst. Blair knew Jack Pendergrast's disappearance had resulted in a job performance so low it had nearly cost Jim his job. "Jim, you know you could've come and gotten me if you needed me that badly."

Jim glanced over at Blair. "What do you think I'm doing?" he asked, shaking his head.

Before Blair could reply, Jim determinedly changed the subject. "So, do you want to grab lunch before we cross the border or after?"

"After," Blair decided, checking his watch. At the rate they were going, they'd be at the crossing right at lunchtime. "Dollar goes farther on the other side of the border."

Jim nodded, and the rest of the trip passed quickly as they debated where they wanted to eat as well as the merits of various restaurants in Vancouver. Both men had been to the city several times before, though it had been a while, and never with each other. The border crossing took nearly as long as the drive, but once across the border, Jim drove to the hotel where he'd made the reservations. The hotel was surprisingly more upscale than Blair had expected, but somehow it made sense – the more upscale hotels were more likely to use better quality sheets, for one thing.

Jim didn't flaunt money or spend recklessly, but over the years, Blair had discovered that Jim was willing to spend more on certain things if they made his life more comfortable. Still, he was surprised to find that Jim had used the excuse of needing to stop for gas and for a restroom to set up lunch in their room – and that they were sharing a suite with a single, king-size bed.

Jim stopped Blair's questioning with, "What I want to talk about doesn't need spectators."

Sitting down at the table room service had set up with a white linen tablecloth, Blair pulled open the plate covers to find a gourmet spread of various meats, cheeses, fruit, and crackers. Two microbrew beers sat waiting to be drunk in iced pilsners. If Blair didn't know better, he'd swear this was an attempt at a romantic lunch, guy-style.

"Man, this is quite a spread," Blair remarked as Jim sat down across from him. "Looks great." He put together a cracker sandwich of meat and cheese. "Mmm, is good. You should have some."

From across the table, Jim studied Blair a long moment. "You're right, you know," Jim began abruptly. "I'm a jealous, possessive son of a bitch who often doesn't know what he's got until it's gone. I get angry when I feel threatened. I don't react well to change. But I've had almost five months to get reminded I didn't want to live without you a year ago and I still don't."

"Jim, you didn't have to drive all the way here to tell me that," Blair said, shaking his head slightly as he marveled at the lengths Jim would go.

"Oh, I did," Jim assured him. "You kept slamming the door on me every time I try to connect with you otherwise. You're supposed to be my shaman, the one connecting with the spirits, not me – but they can't get through to you because you don't take it seriously. You don't believe we're connected."

"Come on, Jim, just because Incacha said I was doesn't mean anything. It's been a long time since that happened, and nothing's happened. You remember those weeks I drove you crazy trying to figure out what it meant?"

Jim nodded. "It's different now," he insisted. "Haven't you had any weird dreams?"

Blair started to refuse, then stopped. "Just – I think I'm watching your panther get electrocuted."

Looking grim, Jim said, "He is."

Alarmed, Blair reached across the table to touch Jim's arm. He was shocked by the jolt of awareness that swept through him. "Jim? What hell was that?"

"Something we need to fix," Jim said calmly. "I need you to ground me. I miss you, Blair. Miss hearing your sounds, smelling your smells, feeling you near me, being able to touch you. More than that, I thought I could control how I feel about you. Turns out I was wrong." He took Blair's hand and, keeping his eyes on Blair, kissed the back of Blair's hand. Electricity zapped through Blair at the more intimate contact, heating a sudden surge of desire along with a deepening sense that they were supposed to be joined.

Blair's eyes widened and his breathing quickened. "I can't be your partner at work if I'm your lover," he pointed out past a suddenly thick throat.

"I know," Jim said roughly. "But if you don't want to be my lover, then we can figure out something else. I just know we have to figure it out here, in neutral territory, before things get worse."

"Worse?"

Jim closed his eyes wearily, briefly. "I've had nightmares," he said quietly. "I can't tell anymore what's just my head playing out worst-case scenarios and what's a vision. It all just feels like hell."

"It's almost the end of the month," Blair pointed out. "I can move out tomorrow if you need me that badly."

Jim nodded tightly. "I know it's probably too late to break the lease without some penalty, but I'll pay the difference, whatever it costs."

"As for being your lover…why didn't you say you were interested in me that way?" Blair asked bluntly.

"I thought if there'd be any time you'd notice my interest, it was when you moved out," Jim replied tiredly. "I don't make cross-city trips just for anyone. The day I was going to tell you, those two showed up and made it clear I was too late."

"Not that late," Blair told him with a smile. "Turns out I'm not that much into polyamory, or the petty dramas that go along with people who use it as an excuse for the kind of behavior that's not cool in any sort of relationship – like cheating, lying, and playing mind games. Somehow, I'm pretty sure you're not going to do that sort of crap."

"No," Jim assured him. "As long as you don't, either."

"I won't," Blair reassured him. "You're hesitating, though. Why?"

"Once we become lovers, that jolt of electricity between us becomes permanent," Jim told him. "You'll know how I feel – whether I'm sick, hungry, tired, happy, horny, or just having a bad day. Reverse is true – and no, you don't get to do tests, because I'll tell you upfront the range on it is limited. That's why we have to do this in neutral territory – if we were to do this in Cascade, you'd be bound to Cascade as well." Grimly, Jim added, "You wouldn't be able to leave the city without getting sick."

Blair's eyes widened. "How the hell do you know this? That's not in any of the research on Sentinels I read."

"Because it's not written down in those books," Jim said. "You never asked me for my notes on the Chopec."

Blair blinked. "You said they were classified."

"Because you weren't ready for them, and to be honest, neither was I." Jim sighed tiredly. "Incacha brought my notebook with him when he was here. He reminded me that my Guide needed to be one with me when the time came, or a new Sentinel would take what I had given up. After the mess with Barnes, I thought that threat was over." He paused. "I love you, and every time I think I have a shot at meeting you as just Jim in love with Blair, something comes up to remind me we're not just two guys who met somewhere."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," Blair suggested. "Is that why you set this up? Your way of making up for the way we have to bind ourselves together?"

Jim looked at him. "I want this to be good for both of us," he confessed. "So we can look back and remember it wasn't a five-minute fuck. This is forever, Blair. No going back, no one else. If you want to back out, just be friends sharing a place together the way we were before, you'd better say something now."

"I want you," Blair said fiercely. "I didn't know I was missing something until you walked in and touched me and it feels like we've been headed here all along." He leaned over the table, intending to kiss Jim, but wound up kissing Jim's palm instead.

"Not yet," Jim cautioned him. "Eat first. I don't want you passing out later."

"Spoilsport," Blair complained, but he complied anyway.

To his surprise and delight, Jim spent the next hour flirting with him, teasing him as only someone who'd known him for years could. Jim made it abundantly clear that not only was he experienced, but given the freedom to trust that his feelings were returned, he was comfortable with expressing just how he wanted Blair. By the time they'd finished eating, Blair ached with arousal. He knew Jim could smell his pheromones and was certain the only reason he hadn't been jumped was that Jim was controlling his reaction.

Once it was clear that Blair was done eating, Jim undressed him, then bathed him, batting away all attempts to help. "I want to cherish you," Jim said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Don't make me decide you never want this."

Wisely, Blair decided not to protest any further. "Just – not used to seeing this side of you," Blair commented.

Jim grinned. "Nobody wanted to see it," he said quietly.

"I do," Blair told him strongly. "I love you, you big mush."

Jim blushed and ducked his head, turning his attention to continuing to clean Blair's body. That task accomplished, he rinsed himself before stepping out to grab one of the hotel's big fluffy towels. Rubbing Blair down, he dried his soon-to-be-lover before repeating the process on himself.

"I'll be right out," he promised Blair. "Don't get dressed."

Blair nodded. A few minutes later, Jim stepped out of the bathroom, fished out a tube of lube and a box of wet wipes from his duffel bag before setting both down on the nightstand.

Blair was already on the bed, half-hard. Jim smiled and took a position next to Blair, pulling him into his arms as they lay on their sides. Then he kissed Blair for the first time.

It was as though fire had been ignited with a blowtorch. Heat sizzled through Blair as though the desire he'd felt for others in the past had been nothing more than easily extinguished flickers of flame. Suddenly, his body was humming with potential, as though he was a current waiting for a live wire to conduct it. Jim kissed him as though he'd been starving, touching him with a surety of motion that followed through on his earlier flirtation.

Blair forgot all sense of time, all sense of place. His world narrowed to Jim, to the need to ignite in him the same depth of desire Jim was blazing in him, and Blair was succeeding even as he recognized Jim was holding on to a finer level of control than Blair had anticipated. Jim held little else back, making it clear that he loved to watch Blair thrash on the fine point of orgasm while he tasted every possible inch of his Guide.

Just when Blair was reduced to pleading, Jim slid into him. For a moment, Blair gasped, unable to believe that the usual pain of being stretched that wide was gone. In its place was an abrupt sense of "oh, that's how it's supposed to be." Jim held off thrusting while Blair adjusted.

"I'm all right," Blair gasped. "Don't stop. Just – feels so good."

Jim grinned, and leaned down to kiss him roughly. "It gets better," he promised.

The bond between them was a secondary thought to the heated passion they shared. Blair wasn't entirely cognizant when Jim lifted up after coming inside him, then rose up to sheath Blair's erection inside him. All Blair knew was that he was still hard, as if someone had shot him full of some sexual stimulant, and he was starting to ache from the prolonged stimulation.

"Jim, please, I need to come," Blair begged.

"Soon, Chief, I've got you," Jim reassured him.

Blair didn't know when Jim had lubricated himself and didn't particularly care – all he knew was that his lover was tight and slick and it felt so good, almost as good as when it had been Jim inside him. Blair began to thrust up, grabbing Jim's hips to steady his motion. Jim accepted the restraint, but continued to try to meet his thrusts.

In one blinding moment, Blair's orgasm shot through him, taking him by surprise. He cried out, then felt the connection between them snap into place like the hasp of a padlock, flaring with brilliant clarity. For one long heartbeat, he knew beyond any doubt that Jim loved him, loved making love with him, and didn't regret that this binding was permanent. Then the connection faded to a more reasonable hum, leaving him with just an impression of Jim: tired, sweaty, still vaguely horny, but very much in love with him.

"Jim?" Blair asked, drawing his arms around his lover as Jim shifted so that his weight was not pinning Blair to the bed. "Something else you want?"

Jim chuckled and pulled him close. "In a little while," he replied. "If you're willing."

"What?"

"More of that," Jim said simply. "Once was not enough."

Blair eyed him warily. "Are we making up for something?"

"Nope," Jim answered cheekily. "I probably should've warned you I'm a sex fiend."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Now he tells me," he mock complained, but his heart wasn't in it. He'd seen how Jim had reacted to pheromones before; it made sense that Jim would find his particularly attractive, especially since he'd had a taste. "Give me a little time? I'm not usually up for more right away – oh, God, Jim, what the hell?"

Jim smiled and slipped a hand between their bodies, cupping Blair's suddenly hard cock. "It'll wear off in a while," he told him. "Right now, my arousal is yours, and it's a feedback loop."

"Oh, sweet God, you're going to kill me," Blair moaned.

"Hang on a sec." Jim reached over to grab a wet wipe and then applied it to both his and Blair's erections. The sudden chill of the damp cloth helped cool down Blair's arousal.

"Better?" Jim asked.

Blair nodded. Jim smiled, and Blair had only a moment to register that it was Jim's wicked smile before his maddening lover moved. A second later, Jim's mouth was on Blair's cock, and he moaned as he realized Jim did not intend to let him out of bed until he was well and truly imprinted, fucked, and loved.

With a mental shrug, Blair accepted his fate. There were, after all, worse places to be than the one he was in – and he could always pay this back later, when they got back home.

He was looking forward to that adventure.


End file.
